


Good Luck Charms

by lavender coin (idyII)



Series: we create our own luck [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Gen, M/M, Multi, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sexual Content, Unconventional Families, in which trusting people actually works, we're giving raven her redemption arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24145948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyII/pseuds/lavender%20coin
Summary: In which Qrow and Clover forget to tell anyone they get married, their respective teams decide to try and help them get together, Ironwood starts to have a crisis over how people perceive him, Qrow accidentally becomes best friends with the Schnees' mother, and then accidentally becomes Weiss' actual  uncle when Raven hits it off with Willow after showing up insisting she feels Summer's presence again after all these years.He's also pretty sure he's been adopted or something by the Happy Huntresses. Who knew truth telling would make being allies so easy?
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & James Ironwood, Qrow Branwen & Raven Branwen, Qrow Branwen & Robyn Hill, Qrow Branwen & Ruby Rose, Qrow Branwen & Summer Rose, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi, Raven Branwen/Willow Schnee
Series: we create our own luck [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590316
Comments: 41
Kudos: 266





	1. landing strategy

Clover, in his own opinion, was minding his own business when his teammates descended upon him, in much the same fashion one might descend upon a criminal they didn't want getting away, sitting in the mostly-empty mess hall and sipping at a mug of coffee while he read a newspaper on his Scroll. There were more and more concerning things happening in Mantle lately, and it had been on all their minds. Apparently all of that news, however, took second importance to whatever Harriet, Elm, Marrow and Vine had to say, as Harriet swiped his Scroll straight out of his hands as she zipped by and sat down, looking grim.

"Good morning to you all as well," Clover noted dryly as they sat down around him. Vine sat down as prim as ever with steepled hands, Marrow was clearly trying to contain his own excitement as his tail practically vibrated, and Elm looked oddly serious.

"This is important," Harriet told him, waving him off. "This. Is an intervention."

His eyebrow shot up.

"We can't take it anymore," Elm took over, sounding so serious he may have laughed if he knew what this was about. "Captain, I know you like flirting, but this has gotta stop."

"This being...?"

"Your relationship with Huntsman Branwen," Vine continued, despite the hundred times Clover had told him he could just say Qrow, "we're concerned about your relationship with him."

Clover's brow furrowed. "Why would you be _concerned_?" he asked, befuddled.

"We're not concerned about _you_ ," Harriet corrected wryly. "We're concerned about _our_ sanity if you two don't stop dancing around each other and fuck already."

Clover opened his mouth, about to tell her (in more polite terms) they'd done precisely that three times already, but he was interrupted before he could.

" _Seriously_ ," Marrow exclaimed, slapping his palms to the table top. "It's getting ridiculous! You two are always either eye-fucking or making dumb puns at each other!"

"Well, nothing wrong with a little bit of levity to lighten the mood-"

"Except it's nonstop levity that makes everyone around you want to ram their head into a wall," Harriet growled, eyes sparking. "So I'm telling you this, man to man-" She wasn't a man, but all right. "-Just. _Tell him._ And _fuck_. Already."

She pronounced each word slowly, emphasizing them with a slap of her fist to an open palm, glaring at him like he'd insulted her mother and spat on her dog.

She glanced at the other Ace Ops and nodded. They nodded back. Like a herd of sheep, they got up and left him sitting there alone again, and she tossed his Scroll back into his hands while she walked away.

Clover stared after his colleagues. There went the most elite team in Atlas, he thought, totally convinced he needed nudging into confessing to his own husband. Could irony get any worse?

* * *

"So, Uncle Qrow," Ruby sing-songed as she sat on the sofa in their common room, swinging her legs back and forth. "Guess what I want more than anything in the world!"

"World peace?" Qrow guessed as he repeatedly smashed a button on the controller in his hands, sending Yang's character off-screen. She let out a yell of frustration.

"Another uncle!" Ruby beamed at him, making him choke on his own spit and start coughing. She patted his back without much concern.

Shaking himself, Qrow looked up to glower at her and scowled. "Excuse me?"

"We can all _see_ you have the hots for Captain Clover," Yang said, sounding smug. "You guys are always flirting."

"And acting like you want to go do gross couple things!"

Weiss snorted from where she'd appeared to sit on the back of the couch. "And clearly you've got his attention as well."

 _Oh my god,_ Qrow thought, wondering if this conversation was going to traumatize him, as he put his head into his hands. "Girls, I really don't-"

"Look, Uncle Qrow," Ruby told him, in an incredibly patronizing sympathetic tone that was going to make him bang his head into the wall, as she patted his shoulder. "We know you have self-esteem problems-"

"What?"

"And you haven't kept a long relationship for like ten years, maybe more, probably more, maybe even never-"

" _Excuse me?_ "

"But you _are_ worthy of love! You've gotta go tell him how you feel!"

"Yeah!" Yang pumped her fist into the air, looking over at Blake with a blinding smile. "You told me to confess to Blake, and I did, and it worked! So you should do the same!"

The girl sitting opposite her just sat there and let out a small smile, a book in her hands.

"Guys," Qrow rasped, scrubbing his face. "I really appreciate the sentiment, but I don't need-"

"Don't worry, Uncle Qrow," Yang bulldozed cheerfully. "We're gonna help you!"

"I don't need-"

"We'll do everything we can!"

"You don't understand-"

"And to start off, I told Clover you wanted to meet him at the rose garden, so you should probably leave right about now!"

"You what?" Qrow asked, wrinkling his nose, but Yang was already yanking him off the couch and shoving him towards the door. Then it was slammed in his face, and he was left standing there in the empty hallway with his niece's words reverberating through his head, and since they obviously weren't letting him back in and had probably told Clover something stupid, he let out a sigh and started walking towards his favorite garden to frequent. What a fucking day.

* * *

Clover was sitting under an apple tree, on the bench Qrow himself liked to sit at, absentmindedly reading something on his Scroll. Qrow liked this garden because all the bushes inside were rose bushes. The gardeners had cultivated a variety of colors, and he liked to sit in the apple tree's branches, staring at them for what felt like hours on end. Clover looked relaxed, and Qrow couldn't help but smile when he saw him, despite his previous frustration.

"Hey, pretty boy," he called, strolling over with his thumbs hooked into his pockets. Clover glanced up and smiled at him, turning off his Scroll in favor of conversation. "So, what wheel of fortune do I need to play to guess what my nieces told you?"

"They said something about you having something important to tell me," Clover replied, sounding amused. He lifted an arm as Qrow sat down, then wrapped it around him and set it on the bench beside his hip. "I wonder what it could be?"

Qrow snorted. "Let's just say they didn't get the memo when it comes to us apparently needing help flirting with each other."

Clover chuckled. "Guess who gave me a talk earlier?"

"Was Harriet orchestrating it?"

"You guessed it in one. Vine and Elm saw me in here earlier, but when I mentioned I was coming to talk to you they left like a couple of bats out of hell."

Qrow raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Ironic they all couldn't avoid us like this three days ago."

Clover's smile grew into a grin. "What, you didn't like making out in a closet?" he teased, turning and leaning closer to him. "Like most do in their Academy days?"

Qrow let out a snort. "Bad shower sex also belongs in your Academy days. S'it count as fast forwarding or going backwards if we did both?"

"Oh, you think it was _bad_? Well, Qrow, I _can_ try again."

"Think you can do better, hotshot?"

"Most definitely. I've been told I have great luck in bed."

Qrow gave into the grin trying to take over his face. Flicking the other man's forehead, he got up and broke off their teasing. "It'll have to be later. James wants me to scout out a possible dust mine a few miles out from the city limits. As a bird," he said when Clover raised an eyebrow, wondering why he was being sent alone.

"All right. Just be careful, don't be shy to pull off a tactical retreat."

"That's what you Atlas elites call it," Qrow replied, sticking out his tongue as he backed away. "I call it running to save your ass."

Clover grinned, nearly laughing as Qrow left through the garden door and started down the hall. Supposing he had time to get in some training, and would probably be able to find one of his colleagues to do it with, he got up and left the room at a leisurely pace, unprepared for finding two of them right around the corner, hunched over like they'd been spying on him through the glass.

"Clover," Harriet groaned through a growl, looking like she wanted to strangle him. "That was a perfect chance!"

"Wasted," Elm moaned. "So wasted. It was romantic and everything!"

Clover resisted the urge to slap his own forehead. Instead, he forced his voice to take on a chipper note. "Good, you two are free! Time for some calisthenics."

"Clover!"

* * *

The location he'd been sent out to wasn't much of anything. There had probably been a fair-sized mine there at some point, but it was almost completely caved in, nothing more than a hole in the ground now filled with rocks and snow. He wandered around for a while, looking for possible entry points or weak spots, but the area was pretty solid; starting a dig without knowing anything was even down there for sure was a waste of time.

Still, he got to take a flight and stretch out his wings. The wind was still bitingly cold, which made him wish there was some way to wear a sweater as a bird, but he enjoyed soaring in the empty skies without a care in the world. Up there, where the air was fresh and clean of any fumes and all there was to focus on was the wind rustling past his feathers, he didn't have to think about the embargo or Mantle or Salem or any of the dangers to them all right now.

Sometimes, it was just nice to have a break.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Gliding along, just like that, it was almost like getting a massage-

_SMACK!_

_FUCK,_ Qrow yelled to himself, which just came out as an indignant, pained squawk from his beak. He tore his eyes open and caught a brief glance of one of those damned security drones, beeping yellow, which meant it was malfunctioning or something- he didn't really know, he just knew they brought them in to fix when they did that- before realizing he was free falling. He had transformed back into a human being out of reflex, having learned to do it when anything attacked him as a crow so he could fight back.

He flailed in the air for a moment and grasped for Harbinger to stop his fall. There was a blinding pain right behind his eyes, which always happened when he ran into something while he was flying, and it would be dumb to try and shift back now, because he'd be more stunned as a crow.

" _Landing strategy_ " was the first thing taught to young Huntsman, but it was a bit harder when his head was still ringing with pain and disorientation. He managed to wrangle Harbinger's shotgun out and blasted straight down, trying to re-orient himself when the shot broke some of his momentum. He slung his scythe out and shot again, managing to get himself into a roll like he'd taught Ruby to do.

If he just hadn't run into the damned drone, landing would've been easy, but considering he was still figuring out if what he thought was up and down was actually up and down by the time he hit the ground, he came down a lot harder than he would have liked. There was snow below that broke his fall, and he skidded, stopping in the cold with a groan, the sky above suddenly quite blinding.

At least he wasn't falling anymore. That hadn't been fun.

It was mind-numbingly cold, and Harbinger felt much too heavy to lift in his hand, so he closed his eyes just for a minute.

It was just a minute, but darkness still rushed in on him.


	2. negotiation strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (holding hands is the new strategy)

It was fucking _cold_ when Qrow woke up.

There was only a thin sprinkling of snow over his cloak when he did, so he guessed that he hadn't been out too long. He might have worried about something more serious than a mild concussion if he had been. He slowly brought his complaining body to sit up, groaning as he stretched one of his shoulders. The landing had battered his Aura pretty well, but it wasn't completely broken yet, so that was good.

He got to his feet and ignored the familiar creaking in his body. _Getting too old for this shit._ He wondered if Raven was feeling her age yet. Probably not, asshole.

When he was finally oriented on his feet, he set Harbinger into the ground for support and squinted at the landscape. He recognized nothing around him, but he was sure the wind had been blowing towards Mantle when he'd fallen, not away. A quick check for his Scroll left him wincing when he pulled out a cracked, damaged device he was surprised hadn't fallen apart yet.

He clicked the on button a few times, but it was pretty well trashed. All he got was a few flickers as the screen tried to come on.

 _Oh fucking well,_ he thought, putting it back into his pocket and starting to walk. This was why he hated Atlas. It was always so _cold_.

He was pretty sure he saw the outline of the city in the distance when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Pausing, he glanced behind him, seeing nothing but miles of snow, and a few boulders he'd passed. They were hard to make out, considering they, too, were covered in snow, but they probably made for good cover.

"You may as well not hide," he called out, annoyed, and then a knife came whirling out of nowhere and almost took his ear off. He ducked in time, and it landed uselessly in the snow.

A man stepped out from behind the boulder closest to him. He was tall, pale, and fairly bulky, with several spikes in his face that Qrow thought (frankly) didn't compliment him well. Two other men emerged from their former hiding places.

"Looks like we caught ourselves one of the tin man's tin soldiers, boys," the leader called out, circling around him like a predator stalking its prey. "You decide to come down to Mantle and have a fun time, or was there a special occasion?"

Raising Harbinger to a more defensive position, Qrow shifted his eyes between the three of them. They were spreading out, moving slowly, and it reminded him of how bandits moved to try and disorient their victims. One of them was bound to strike at any moment; it could have been any of them.

"Listen, buddy, picking a fight isn't going to solve any of our problems."

" _Our_ problems? I think you mean _Mantle_ _'s_ problems," the man retorted, a grin appearing on his face. His teeth had been sharpened; it looked intimidating, but it probably made biting his tongue a bitch. "You're one of Ironwood's puppets, remember? You've got it well and good up there in the sky, while he fucks the rest of us over."

"Reckon we could get some money off him, chief?" one of the others asked.

"As if. Ironwood wouldn't cough up a penny for anything, let alone one soldier."

"Then I say we make an example out of him. Ironwood has his toys out patrolling so much, making problems for us, I say we fuck one of them up to send a message."

Qrow fired a warning shot at the second man's feet. He leaped back with surprising dexterity, eyes flashing as he looked back up at him. This one was thinner, probably faster, harder to catch.

"Like I said," he repeated through gritted teeth, even though he thought he had a good idea of where this was going. "This isn't gonna fix anything-"

He raised his blade when the third man lunged at him. He had blue hair, mismatched blue and brown eyes and a pair of weapons not unlike Tyrian's. The second one was suddenly leaping in from the side at the same time, which confirmed Qrow's theory he was the fast one. He parried and swung his sword around, just in time to block the group leader's sword, then a battery from his left sent him skidding in the snow. It was hard to get a firm footing in it, which was yet another reason he didn't like Atlas.

Their movements weren't polished and perfected like the Ace Ops, or hell, even his kids, but they were pissed off enough to come at him with a ferocity that made dealing with all three of them difficult. They obviously weren't just bandits with some weapons, either, though, because the shifty-eyed one was using his speed Semblance with a practiced ease and they all moved well enough with their weapons it implied they'd had them a while. They were probably Academy dropouts who'd taken to either patrolling Mantle's surface for their own gain or something else. He somehow doubted they were in Robyn Hill's posse. 

He hissed when the speedy one managed to catch him off guard and slice into his bicep. It was just a shallow cut, clearly _meant_ to graze him, and the sudden dizziness that came on meant it was probably a poison attack. Definitely not as potent as Tyrian's, but it did make his head spin for a moment.

The moment was all they needed to team up to start battering him, getting in a good shot to his ribs and the back of his head before he managed to collect himself and get the leader to back off with a blast from his shotgun. He swung Harbinger around into a scythe and swiped at the other two, making them duck and dodge backwards in succession, and decided the best option at this point was to get out of there. He didn't want to kill any of them, especially since that would probably make Mantle-Atlas relations _worse_ , but holding back would only get him killed.

His eyes alighted on a group if icicles hanging off a boulder formation right overhead. Smirking, he swung Harbinger around in a feint at the fast one and fired simultaneously. The icicles shattered, leaving the ice to rain down and kick up a cloud of snow, and he fired as many shots as he had in his current round into the area around them to make it bigger.

Then he turned into a bird, which was probably a fucking dumb idea, and flew away as fast as he could. Time for a tactical retreat.

It was a fucking dumb idea, because he ended up crashing into the snow at some point and passing out again, but at least he wasn't dead yet. Even if it still was too fucking cold.

* * *

There was someone crouched over him when Qrow came to. He squinted at the figure blocking out the sun, blinking a few times, but they didn't come anymore into focus.

"He's awake," an unfamiliar voice said, a deep-toned woman like Elm. He could make out a few hazy figures behind the one leaning over him, but nothing much more.

"Man, someone did a number on him. Think it was someone from Mantle?"

"Probably. Since when does anyone from Mantle like anyone from Atlas?"

"Well, I dunno if I'd go this far..."

"That's because you're a nice person, Fi."

"Cut the chatter," the figure over him ordered, and the volume made him wince. "Hey, Atlas boy. Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Qrow managed to get out, wishing he could recognize who he was speaking too. But hey, they hadn't killed him yet, so that was a good sign.

"Good. Take my hand."

He made out the bleary form of the figure- a woman- holding out her hand in front of his face. "Well that's a bit forward," he said, his tone clearly joking but weak from his probable concussion and variety of injuries, even as he took it. "I'm a married man now."

Someone snorted. He couldn't tell if it was amused or derisive.

"This way I'll know if you're lying," the woman continued, which didn't make sense, but he decided to ignore it for now. "What's your name?"

"Qrow Branwen."

The answer slid past his lips without hesitation. He felt himself go still in confusion. He wasn't shy about giving out his name, but he hadn't meant to-

His mind settled on the silver crackling that had surrounded the bandit leader's sword whenever he'd attacked. He'd cut Qrow a few times, trying to goad him almost constantly, and Qrow had only started to respond after the first cut. Even as hazy as he was, his mind formed a shaky connection, which was "Semblance thing."

So lying was probably out of the question, he was guessing.

"What happened to you?" the woman asked.

Groaning, Qrow felt his eyes slide shut, but he didn't fall unconscious again. "Got attacked by these assholes that were wandering around."

"How many?"

"Three."

"Did one of them have spikes in his face?"

"Yes."

The woman snorted. "Vester and his men, then. Not surprised they went after an Atlas operative."

Qrow groaned again, this time from annoyance. "I'm not a fucking operative," he complained. "That's Clover's fucking job."

The woman was slowly starting to come into focus when he opened his eyes. He caught her raise an eyebrow. "If you aren't an operative, what are you?"

"A Huntsman?" Qrow asked, irritated, wondering if it wasn't obvious or not. Considering the giant sword that was laid out in the snow a few feet away, he thought it was pretty obvious.

The woman narrowed her eyes at him. She had light-colored hair and dark skin and looked vaguely familiar. "A Huntsman working with Ironwood that isn't in the military. Why not?"

"I fucking hate the Atlas military," Qrow replied, like his tongue had a mind of its own. "They're all so stuffy and arrogant and really need someone to take the sticks out of their asses. Why the fuck would I want to wear one of those dumb uniforms for? Most of them are like little robots running around doing whatever they're told."

The tallest of the women behind the leader let out a harsh laugh. "Hah! You sound like you belong in Mantle, not Atlas!"

"Not like I have a fuckin' choice."

The woman crouched beside him narrowed her eyes. "Why don't you have a choice?"

Qrow's mouth popped open despite him willing it not to. He swore as words tumbled out of it even as he tried as hard as he could not to speak. "Because Atlas is the only thing that has a chance to stop Salem."

"And who is Salem?"

Before he knew it, the truth was rushing from his lips without any direction from him. Qrow almost felt like ramming his head into a wall, inwardly swearing as he just kept talking and talking, spilling the beans and then some to the woman he was now recognizing as Robyn Hill, and yeah, he was definitely fucked. James was going to be so fucking pissed at him.

The disbelief that settled on their faces was almost funny, when Robyn kept asking him questions, but he supposed the truth-telling Semblance she herself must have possessed made it impossible not to believe him. It was like watching her face go through the five stages of grief or something: disbelief, denial, stunned anger. She kept asking him questions, though, determined to get to the truth. At least that was something he could respect.

Her hand was also warm. It was the only warm thing there.

"Beacon's gone, Shade's a mess, and Haven got fucked when Lionheart betrayed us," Qrow ended up saying, and suddenly, his voice felt hoarse. His eyes were stinging, so he shut them to avoid looking at her anymore. "I didn't know where else to go."

There was silence for a minute. He opened his eyes, unwillingly, and saw a pensive expression on the woman's face. "You know this sounds like some fucked up made-up story, right?"

He couldn't help but let out a ragged chuckle. He was pretty sure some of his ribs were broken. "It always does."

Her voice took on a note of challenge. "And so what do you think? You think Ironwood can protect everyone in this city, put some tower up in the sky, and fix this mess you're talking about?"

"I dunno." Her face was starting to shift around again, and it made Qrow dizzy. "I don't know if any of us can. I don't know if it's even worth it to try and stop Salem sometimes." That stung, that was something he hadn't thought about since he was drunk in a bar right over a cellar where his nieces were dying. "Maybe it'd be easier to just let her kill us all and get it over with."

Robyn Hill frowned down at him.

"...but I've still got to try," he said, with a sudden cough, trying to raise his other hand to hold his ribs. It didn't work, as his other one had gone mostly limp in her grip too. "I owe them."

"Owe who?"

His voice cracked. "My nieces." But that wasn't the whole truth, not anymore. He thought about Clover, Taiyang, Blake, Weiss. "My family."

Something in her expression softened, just a little bit. She stared down at him. It was weird, he thought, how human she felt then. It wasn't like she had become overcome with pity, but he felt, at least, a tiny part of her understood that notion.

"I feel a little bad now," one of the other Huntresses muttered.

The next question Robyn chose took him off guard. She asked it in a quiet voice, with narrow eyes, looking almost downcast for a moment before her resolve came rushing back and made her face go stony again.

"What do you want for Mantle? Do you agree with how Atlas has been treating us?"

Qrow squinted up at her. God, it was getting hard to focus, he really was lightheaded right now. "No," he admitted. "I don't agree with it. I want to-" His head spun, and he pressed his eyes shut with a wince deep enough to make him pause for a minute, even with the bandit's Semblance working on him. "I want to- protect Mantle, but I can't- can't do anything by myself."

The silence was deafening. Robyn didn't look upset, per se, but she looked very calculating, as if she was thinking something over.

"I suppose you're right," she finally said, in a quiet but no less commanding tone. "No one can do anything by themselves. Hey, Fi, get the truck. Joanna, help me move him."

Qrow was vaguely aware of the two women pulling him up from the snow- which somehow made him even colder, he thought- and pulling his arms around their shoulders. Cold metal replaced it, and he vaguely heard one of the women struggling with Harbinger, and then a set of doors being pulled shut before everything went dark.

* * *

Qrow was getting really tired of passing out.

He awoke with a wince, feeling like he needed to grasp for Harbinger's handle, and took a bleary look around. He was in the back of a truck, an older one, that was a dark green inside, unlike the stark greys and whites of Atlas vehicles. There was cloth strung up on the opposing wall, and an unfamiliar woman was sat across from him, leaning on a crate. A much smaller woman sat on it, swinging her heels back and forth.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," said Robyn, putting away what he would have guessed was smelling salts into a pouch on her hips. She was knelt beside him, expression a bit flat, and held out her hand before anything else. "Put her here, partner."

Qrow might have snorted at the dull delivery of her joke if he had the energy. He summoned the energy to raise his hand, and hoped she didn't notice how much it was shaking, or at least didn't comment on it. Her eyes definitely lingered a little too long to not notice, but she didn't say anything about it, thankfully.

"In case you haven't guessed, I can tell whether you're lying or not. And the Semblance that mercenary hit you with forces you to answer whatever people ask you. It won't last long, but that doesn't matter, because I'll still know if you're lying. Now let's pick up where we left off."

"Mind if I ask one question?" Qrow coughed, shoulders shaking. Robyn raised an eyebrow at him. "Why're you bothering dragging me back?"

She almost rolled her eyes. "I'm on Mantle's side, Branwen, that doesn't mean I'm totally cruel. What, you think I don't have a soul?"

"Not...what I meant," Qrow stumbled over another cough. "You don't have to be heartless to...look out for yourself."

"What do you mean by that?"

Qrow flinched when he tried to shift himself and his side set to burning. "Look," he said, trying to sound polite, since they were all the ones with very sharp weapons right now. "I don't- want this to look bad- James won't react well if he thinks you did this to me-"

Her eyebrow shot up again. "Are you concerned for me?"

"Yes," his mouth blabbered, and he wanted to scream again. At least say it more subtly. "I'm a bad luck charm. Next thing you know I pass out again, someone sees you, you get arrested for trying to murder me, this all gets worse-"

Somehow, she looked a little amused. "I appreciate the concern, Branwen, but I don't need it. Why don't you worry about yourself a little?" His mouth clicked shut. "James, you said? You know Ironwood personally?"

"Yeah."

"And just how well do you think you know him? Do you trust him?"

Something in Qrow hesitated. He wondered, sometimes. "Yeah," he said after a beat. "I've known him since we were in the Academy. I was there when he lost his team and had to spend seven months in the hospital. We haven't always gotten along well, or at all, but...he's my friend. I know he's trying to do the right thing. I know he's a good man. I'm just worried that he'll...do the wrong things trying to do the right thing."

Robyn's face turned mildly solemn as she stared at him. Then she turned to stare out the front windows, where someone was driving, looking pensive again. Then she glanced back at him. "Who would you side with if it came down to him versus Mantle?" Qrow's brow furrowed, not understanding, and her brown furrowed. "Martial law. Leaving us here to die while they live up in the sky. Leaving us for the Grimm. Killing anyone who says anything contrary to the Atlas agenda. Anything. Him or Mantle?"

There was no hesitation. "Mantle."

"Well then, would you be willing to help me convince him there's a way for us all to work together, then?"

"Yes," came immediately out of Qrow's mouth.

Something in her facial expression relaxed, just a little bit. Qrow glanced over at the other two. The smaller woman looked excited, with a blinding smile on her face, and the larger woman looked more stoic, but a little approving as she sat there with her arms crossed.

"Then you will," Robyn said, with a certain finality and command in her voice that reminded him why she was Mantle's current favorite for the council seat. "Here's my plan. You help me get in somewhere, that has something shady going on, and you lot help me scout this out, and maybe we can open up negotiations."

"Sure," Qrow groaned, finally managing to get his other hand up to rub at his ribs. Yeah, definitely broken. "I was a spy for years anyway. I'm good at that."

She smirked for the first time since he'd been there. Or, well, with them. "Interesting. And useful."

"Wait, I have a question!" the small one cried out, making Robyn turn. The short woman was staring at him with curious eyes, ears twitching. "I've heard lots of stories about you- you're from that famous team from Beacon, right?" She didn't really wait for an answer. "I don't really feel like Vester and two of his men could do this much to you...what happened before that?"

"I got knocked out of the sky," Qrow blabbered out, which made all their eyebrows shoot up.

"What," said Robyn, "after you jumped from your transport?"

"No. I was flying."

"...on a transport?"

"No; I can turn into a bird."

The aura connecting their hands stayed green. They said nothing; slowly, their eyebrows started climbing again.

"Please don't tell anyone that," Qrow said, wincing at having to resort to pleading. "I just told you magic is real and an immortal Grimm lady is trying to kill us all, and I've been spying on her for years, it's a big reason why I haven't gotten killed."

"...all right, then," Robyn said after a few more moments. "Ironwood know that?"

"Yeah. He's the only one besides my kids and Clover."

"Clover Ebi?" the small one, which he was pretty sure was the 'Fi', said, sounding confused. "Why would he know?"

"Oh. Yeah."

He let his head thunk back against the wall of the truck. The realization made him remember he was even more dead when he finally got back to Atlas now, almost getting himself killed for such dumb reasons. "I married him this morning."

Someone choked on their own spit. Qrow was pretty sure it was the driver.

To his surprise, Robyn let out a biting laugh. "I'm not surprised. You were making eyes at each other even while we ambushed you. That does, however, make this much easier."

"Oh, yeah," the buffer woman said, sounding as if she'd come to the same realization her leader had. "Getting into that hospital will be a lot easier with Clover Ebi's husband."

"How are we going to explain his injuries?"

"Why _did_ Vester attack you?" Fi asked.

Qrow grimaced. "I take it he doesn't like Ironwood much. Or his people walking around or breathing in general."

"He tried to kill you just because of that?"

"Wanted to fuck up one of the general's toys and make an example."

The Faunus flinched. Robyn looked grimmer than before.

"I may not like many of you up there," she said, fingers tightening around his own. "But we don't attack people at random like that, and we've never killed anyone. My goal is to stand up for the people of Mantle and make a difference. Will you do that with me?"

There was something about her, something charismatic, and Qrow, right then, could understand why so many people in Mantle believed in her. Hell, he wanted to. Summer could always do the same thing.

"Yeah."


	3. high living

"Run me through this again?" Qrow asked, stifling a groan as the truck hit a bump in the road. Robyn, sat on a crate beside him, placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, almost absentmindedly.

"You're going to help us get into a hospital up in Atlas. I'm sure they won't deny someone as important as you, especially since Ebi's your spouse."

"They're hoarding drugs," continued one of the other women, who had finally introduced herself as Joanna, as she sharpened a knife she kept down her boot. "They're supposed to distribute shipments to hospitals down in Mantle, but things go missing. The hospitals' complaints have been ignored by the board, obviously, since they favor all those dipshits up in Atlas, and with everything that's going on, there isn't exactly a great place to turn to."

"Which hospital was it again?"

Fiona took over where Joanna had left off, sounding cheerful. "The New Eden Medical Clinic!"

Instantly, a groan left his mouth. "That tall one with the spirally architecture?" At Fiona's nod, he groaned again. "The one with the entire first floor that's just a lobby and only four rooms on every floor after that, the one that fancy elites go to when they want to go into 'rehab' and just get some crack or whatever they fancy?"

"Now you _really_ sound like a Mantlen!" Joanna said cheerily. "Most of it's only rumors, so no one in Atlas takes it seriously."

Robyn snorted, making the other two quiet down. "It's basically a leisure lounge," she explained, holding his shoulder again when another bump came up. "They use all that funding, all that equipment that's gathering dust, while they could actually be serving the people, but instead the rich bastards up there just wanted a cover for their drug laundering."

"And how exactly are we getting to Atlas...?"

The truck started to slow down. "This way," Robyn said with a smirk down at him, then offered her hand. He took it and let her support him as he stood, as soon as the truck had stopped, and Joanna hopped up to get the doors.

Now, most of Mantle didn't look like much compared to Atlas, but there was still a good part of town. There was in any city. This was clearly the more affluent part they'd stepped out into, located near the heart where Grimm attacks were least likely to penetrate. Qrow glanced around as Robyn walked him towards a pair of hospital doors.

 _Eden Medical Clinic_ glowed in blue lights above the awning. He supposed it must have been old branch that was still operating, probably just another link in the chain that kept supplies from reaching Mantle hospitals. He wasn't surprised.

The receptionist- and it said a lot, that there was a single receptionist and not an on-duty ER staff there- looked up and raised an eyebrow when she saw them. "Ms. Hill," she said, distaste clear in her voice. "I'm afraid this is a private clinic."

"We need transport up to New Eden," Robyn railroaded her, slapping down Qrow's Scroll- which, after some fiddling with by Fiona, who apparently liked technology, at least pulled up his license. "This is Clover Ebi's husband."

The receptionist's face paled. She glanced at his ID, then back to him, then back to the ID before leaping out of her chair and running over to a door, yelling through it. "I need a medical cart and transport ready, stat! We have a VIP!"

"VIP my ass," Qrow mumbled, which made May snicker. Two nurses rolled out a cart a moment later, and he opened his mouth to protest. "I don't need-"

"He was attacked out in the field and fell a long distance," Robyn interrupted him, hauling him onto the cart and making him grunt. "We're his escort right now. He could be attacked at any moment."

"By what?" one of the nurses squeaked. "Grimm?"

Robyn turned and gave her a stare so dramatic Qrow almost laughed. "No. His headhunters."

The nurses made a collective high-pitched noise that almost broke his cover. Qrow feigned being dizzy again, though he didn't really have to try very hard, and he felt himself being rolled down the hall at such a pace that almost made him actually queasy.

It was almost funny, how easily they managed to get in with their meal ticket (i.e. him), and soon enough they were on a private medical transport that was allowed up into the atmosphere with only a scan of its outward identifications. Qrow couldn't see out any windows, but he felt it when they docked, and he was rolled out onto the roof of the very hospital he hated just because of the rumors about it.

The inside was even worse. Even if he felt like shit, he still kept a perceptive eye wandering around; there were only two emergency surgery rooms on the top floor, offices, then goddamn luxury suites on the next two. This was definitely a place for rich bastards and rich bastards only.

When he was finally in one of those beds (much to his distaste), wrapped in bandages and with an IV in his arm that he frankly thought was unnecessary, he stared at the doctor in front of him with a dead stare that was making the man nervous. "W-w-we're doing our best to contact General Ironwood, sir, but the lines are quite busy- y-you wouldn't happen to have your husband's line number, would you-?"

"No," Qrow said dully. "Don't have it memorized yet. Just got married today."

He said that because he knew it would make the doctor nervous, and it did, because he stammered even worse and started sweating. "W-well, not to w-worry! We'll do our best to get through, rest assured! Please take some time to rest," he said, backing away towards the door. "Your injuries were not severe, and I'm sure when your Aura recovers you'll be back to honeymoon bliss in n-no time!"

The man stumbled on his way out of the room. He and Robyn stared after him for a moment, then started to laugh, making his ribs roar with pain. He couldn't help it; it had been too goddamned funny. "Did you see his glasses?" Qrow wheezed. "They were about to fall off his fuckin' face!"

The other Huntresses were out in the waiting lobby of the third floor, which was just as grand with sofas and televisions. Qrow's own room had a sofa in it, along with a television, a coffee table, and a few chairs around it. He really had to wonder at the irony, ending up in one of the kinds of places he hated most.

Robyn took a moment to calm herself and took out his Scroll with a final chuckle. "Fiona managed to get it functional enough to make a call. I suggest you call the General now."

Not sure whether he was supposed to smile or grimace, Qrow settled for both as he picked it up and hovered his thumb over the call button. "Well," he said lightly, "this should be fun."

* * *

Qrow had been MIA for about five hours now, and it was wearing away at their nerves.

He had left around eleven, and should have been back by noon, but it was five o'clock and his Scroll had gone offline. That had been what alerted the general that something was wrong, and he and Winter had paced around the office for a good twenty minutes, trying to reestablish a connection- maybe he'd hit a storm, maybe the temperature had gotten to the device, maybe- maybe, maybe, maybe. But as the hours stretched on it was clear something had happened.

The kids were a mess. There was no nice way to put it. Team JNR had mostly kept to themselves, piled onto a sofa in the Ace Ops' common room while Nora chewed on her nails and Jaune and Ren stared pensively at the wall, and Weiss and Blake hung awkwardly back from where Yang was trying to console her sister.

Ruby had done pretty well for the first hour. The second, she'd started to become agitated. By hour four she was crying, and now something in the girl just seemed broken. The Ace Ops had no idea what to do- even with her cheery demeanor, she seemed so serious for her age, singled out by Ironwood himself as a leader. Now she just appeared to be...an upset girl, with nothing to console her.

"C'mon, Rubes," Yang tried again, patting her with her flesh hand as she held her on the couch. "I-it's Uncle Qrow! I...I'm sure he's fine out there."

"But what if he's not?" the girl nearly wailed, burying her face into her knees. The episode had come on fairly suddenly, even with her previous tears, and it left the adults in the room shaken. It reminded them that she was still only seventeen. "What if he was attacked by Salem's people, or, or had a relapse?" Yang's lip was shaking, and she was trying so hard to be the strong one, to not let her own tears fall, that it broke Clover's heart a little. "He promised he wouldn't disappear again, that he'd always tell me! W-what if he's never coming back, like Mom?"

"R-Ruby- he-he's coming back, I know it-"

"It's _Uncle Qrow!_ " she cried, too distraught for anything her sister said to calm her down. "He can't, he can't! I can't do it again! Not with Uncle Qrow!"

"Fuck," Elm muttered, palms pressed into her eyes as she paced in the kitchen. She'd tried to cheer the kids up at some points, but it hadn't worked, and now she was left to pace in uncertainty while Harriet sat on the counter by the fridge with a stormy expression and Vine stood near the door, eyes downcast.

Unable to take the scene before him anymore, especially now that Oscar had come in the opposing door and was watching it all with wide eyes (god, the kid was only fourteen), Clover hurried over from the bar where he'd paused after coming in and knelt down beside the couch. Yang glanced up at him, then quickly away, swiping at her eyes.

"Hey," he said, voice soft, as he put his hands on the girl's shoulders. "Ruby, can you hear me?" She nodded, even as sobs wracked her form. "I need you to calm down. Can you take a deep breath for me? That's good, now out. In and out again. Can you look at me?"

Wiping at her face with her sleeve, like she still didn't want him to see anything even as she cried in front of everyone, she took a shuddering breath and glanced up. It felt wrong to see those silver eyes glimmering like that.

"Look, I can promise you one thing. Your uncle is one of the strongest people I've ever met, as a Huntsman and mentally. He is out there, and I'm going to go find him. I'll bring him back, okay?"

Her face twisted up a little. He recognized it from Academy freshman; she was trying hard not to cry again, and didn't want to embarrass herself. "Do you promise?"

"I promise. Here." He reached down and unclipped his rabbit's foot from his belt, depositing it into her open palms. "Why don't you hold onto this for me? It's a good luck charm. We could all use some every once in a while."

Sniffling, she took it from him and held it, somehow looking so unbearably small. It occurred to him, then, that these literally were _his_ nieces now, too, and a familiar thrum of protectiveness coursed through him. How long had it been since he had even had an actual family? He had to, simply had to, take care of this one.

He turned and gave Yang a smile, holding out his hand for a fist bump. She returned it, much weaker than she usually would have, and gave him a quivering grin. Still trying to be the strong one. She'd probably had to grow up not just as a sister but as a mother to her own sister.

"All of you stay here," he said, to the room at large, and eased up before walking back to the kitchen. "Harriet, you're with me. Elm, Vine, can you two...?"

"On it," Elm muttered at him, walking into the common space. Vine gave him a nod as he left.

At least none of the kids were going to run off guns blazing as upset as they were. He and Harriet, however, were the fastest on the squad, and they could start their patrol on their own.

Harriet glanced over at him. "Clover-"

"I know I'm close to this, Harriet," Clover replied tolerantly. "But he's my partner. I have to go look."

He fully meant partner in the romantic way, but it flew over his colleague's head.

And if anyone had laid a finger on Qrow Branwen, Clover was going to forget the traditional steps to arrest for a few hot minutes and make sure they felt guilty about it one way or another.

* * *

The call was ringing.

And ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

Qrow rolled his eyes. "Fuckin pick up, bastard," he mumbled, making Robyn cast him an amused stare from his bedside.

When James did pick up, he sounded out of breath, like he'd just run a marathon. "Qrow? Is that you? Where are you? Are you hurt?"

"You're gonna have to slow down," Qrow groaned, already getting a headache from the man's rapid-fire questions and whatever they'd put in his IV. "God my fucking _head_."

James paused to take a breath on the other side of the line. "Start simple then. Where are you?"

"That, uhhhh, fancy-smancy hospital? The New Eden one?"

"Hospit-? Why are you-? Never mind, I'm sending over anyone who's closest. How hurt are you?"

"Not that bad," Qrow tried to respond, but it devolved into a groan. He could just imagine James' stern expression then. "Seriously, I don't need like..surgery or anything, I just got clocked pretty well."

"All right, fine, I'll see when I get there. How did you end up there?"

It sounded like James was walking. Well, since it was James, speed-walking. He barked something at someone on the other side of the line. "Yeah, that's...a long story..."

"Qrow."

"Okay, look, I know you're gonna be mad, just-" Qrow winced, already feeling more woozy. He hated having to take any hospital-grade painkillers or sedatives. They always made old memories rise up, ones he'd beaten down long ago. "Just don't yell, okay?"

Robyn frowned down at him. That probably didn't lighten her view of the general any.

James took a deep breath. He knew that was an odd request, especially from someone like Qrow, who he'd gotten into literal yelling matches with, but he wasn't stupid. He knew Qrow didn't like hospitals, didn't like going on meds, because they made him think of his past. When they had first met at their own schools' festival he had been jumpier, looking away from people when they raised their voices. It didn't happen in battle, only outside of it, so the implications about the Branwen twins' past had always been simultaneously both murky and fairly clear to him. "All right. No yelling."

"So uh...you know those drones you have flying around? Well, I was flying back, then one of them brained me, and birds don't really do well with that, you know, so I fell a few hundred feet, then got attacked by some...random Huntsman with a leader with a weird Semblance that made me answer anything anyone asked me. Then I sort of...ran into Robyn Hill."

Ran into was an understatement. More like they'd probably almost run him over with their truck and then taken pity on him.

There was dead silence from the other end. Qrow winced, preparing himself for a shitstorm whether it was coming or not.

"Qrow," James asked, slowly, "what exactly did you tell her?"

"...everything?" Qrow replied weakly, trying to ignore the growl from the other end. "But on the bright side, she's willing to work with us, if-"

" _Willing to work with us?_ Qrow, you just told her _everything_ , every fucking secret we had, and you want me to-"

"Hey chowderhead," Robyn snapped, alerting him to the fact he was on speaker, "you want to flip this to video for a second?"

The eerie silence returned. Robyn took his Scroll from him and flipped it to a widescreen view. James' face appeared a moment later, and he was sat in a transport, frowning at them. Robyn scowled at him.

"This look like it's any of his fault?" she asked, jutting her thumb at Qrow, and okay, he had to admit he didn't look so hot. Most of his wounds may have been superficial, but there were bruises on his face and neck that were visible and a few cuts as well. His expression must have looked like death, too, because James' face softened. "First he gets knocked out of the sky, the fucking _sky,_ and falls a few hundred feet- _estimated,_ mind you- by one of _your_ fucking drones malfunctioning, then he gets attacked by a bunch of mercenaries with it out for _you_ , and he's lucky my group found him or he would have died from the cold since we found him passed out in the snow. Got mild hypothermia, thanks for asking. And yes, I _am_ willing to cooperate, because I am in fact not a dumbass like Schnee and realize continuing to butt heads will make everything fucking worse for Mantle if we don't get this Salem shit sorted, but let me tell you, that's only if you're willing to take the stick out of your ass and show a little mutual respect. If this is how you treat your own men, you think I'm going to want to work with you?"

There was a long moment of silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Qrow could see James floundering for words. After a minute, he spoke again, voice quiet and a little hesitant. "You're...right. I...I apologize, Qrow, I realize this isn't your fault. I-"

"Whatever," Qrow mumbled, eyelids having started to droop. He turned over onto his side, away from the screen, and pressed his face into the mattress. Everything was always his fucking fault, wasn't it? He was just a disaster and a curse no matter where he went. Old Jimmy might as well have tossed him out into the street if he wanted a perfect operative.

Okay, this was probably the medication talking again, but he couldn't help what he thought about.

And it was still fucking cold. He curled up further under the paltry blankets they had there.

"Get your shit sorted and get here," he heard Robyn say, with no small amount of heat. "He had good things to say about you, you know? That you're his friend, a good man, got your heart in the right place. Can't say I fucking believe it right now."

She hung up on him. Qrow would have laughed and given her a high-five for the sass if he wasn't falling into the depressive ups and downs he knew hospital meds always gave him.

"God," he mumbled, voice hoarse. "C'use a drink right now."

The woman got up and walked around the bed to sit on his other side. She peered down at him with a frown, and Qrow, with some small amount of effort, held out his hand on reflex. She looked a little surprised, but took it anyway. "You don't mind me using my Semblance this much, Branwen?"

"Nah," he mumbled, and yeah, the meds were definitely taking effect now, because there were three of her floating around. "Nice to just...hold someone's hand for once."

She was silent for a moment. He didn't have the space of mind to realize their hands weren't glowing with anything. "You're lonely, aren't you?"

"I guess. Sometimes. Haven't had anyone in a long time."

He heard a deep, deep sigh come from the woman's form. For some reason, she reached out and ruffled his hair. "Get some sleep. I'm probably about to get kicked out anyway, since I can't say I'm guarding you anymore. Only a few minutes until some operatives get here. Take a nap, will you?"

"Got it, chief," he called, lackluster and weary, as she let go of his hand and placed it back beneath the blanket before leaving the room. Darkness crept in on him again, but it was the nicer kind, that took him away from the bad places his mind was going.

* * *

The closest squad nearby turned out to be exactly who Robyn expected. Clover Ebi strode through the door to the third floor, wearing a rare jacket, his face set in stone as he went up to the reception desk and showed his ID.

"Clover Ebi. What room?"

"3D, sir," the nurse sitting there said, like a mouse, and Robyn snorted and rocked herself up from her seat. Before the man could get too far, she stepped into his path, unimpressed by the disapproving frown he sent her way.

"Ms. Hill."

"Ebi," she returned, short in an impolite way versus his polite way. "Ironwood call you yet?"

"He sent me the information on where my partner was, little else," Clover told her crisply. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you could step aside-"

"I will, just wanted to tell you something."

"Which is?"

"Ask questions," Robyn told him, cryptically, watching the furrow form in his brow. "There's a lot of blame to go around here, but some of it could be aimed towards your boss. So ask some questions when your bird wakes up."

Clover's eyes narrowed at her. He said nothing, however, and Robyn stepped to the side, shrugging. "Now go in there all lovey dovey and hold his fuckin' hand."

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm, Ms. Hill-"

She shoulder-checked him hard enough to make him pause as he tried to pass, turning and giving him a glowering look. "No, I was serious. I think he's fuckin' touch-starved or something. Go hold his hand."

Blinking, Clover stared down at her with, for the first time, a positively baffled expression, any irritation gone. "O...kay...?" he said, still looking confused as she walked back towards the waiting area. He seemed to shake it off, and continued striving down the hall, and Robyn returned to reading the news on her Scroll.

* * *

Qrow was a light sleeper. He had been since he was a child. Sometimes the tribe had to up and move in the middle of the night, and sometimes he laid waiting for new bruises from his father; then he'd spent years roaming the countries as a Huntsman, and he'd had to have quick reflexes, especially in the wilderness. Even with the sedatives helping him sleep, he heard it when the door to his room swung open and a heavier set of footsteps than his own- not quite as heavy as James', though- came inside.

Rolling over just enough he could look, he squinted and let out a small smile when he recognized the form coming through. "Hey, lucky charm," he rasped.

Relief came over Clover's face. He rushed around to the side of the bed he was facing, grabbing a chair on his way so he could sit. "Qrow. What on earth happened?"

He reached down and threaded his fingers through one of Qrow's hands. It was comforting, somehow, even though Qrow had thought he didn't need any comforting, and he closed his eyes, smile widening. "Had a really unlucky day. How's yours been?"

"Pretty unlucky. My partner disappeared somewhere, been pulling my hair out trying to find him."

"That's unfortunate." Then Clover's other hand drifted to his hair, raking through it, and Qrow leaned into the feeling.

He opened his eyes and immediately felt guilty over the expression on Clover's face. The man looked anguished, something Qrow had never seen before, and even though his entirely unlucky day had been entirely unintentional, he still felt bad for letting it happen.

"Qrow. What happened?"

"Well," he began, voice tired from his meds, "I was flying back, and one of those yellow drones came out of nowhere and ran into me. Probably...my fault, bad luck and everything..."

"Those drones are malfunctioning. That wasn't your fault. They detect movement and move towards it instead of keeping their distance."

"So I fell down, and then fell asleep for...not sure, actually, started coming back and a couple of mercenaries ambushed me. Shouldn't have...gotten taken off guard. Don't remember what Robyn called them. Lester...? Something like that."

Clover frowned. "Mercenaries?"

"Yeah," Qrow mumbled. "Somethin' to do with Jim, same old same old."

Clover's eyes narrowed down at him. He leaned a bit closer, hand moving to gently stroke Qrow's arm, and he took notice of how the man leaned into that, too. "The General? What did they say?"

"James's screwin' over Mantle, so they wanted to screw me over," Qrow continued sleepily, not sure what there was to get there. It was pretty straightforward, wasn't it? "I guess the leader had a truth telling Semblance, hit me with it, made me answer anything someone asks me as a question."

"Is it still active?"

"Nah, wore off a while ago. But it was active when I ran into Robyn." Qrow grimaced, reaching up with his other hand to fold around Clover's already holding his own. "Shit...told her everything, Cloves, James is gonna be so pissed..."

The hand returned to his hair. "It isn't your fault," Clover told him, softly. "I'll make sure he knows that. And technically, I have familial rights, so I can throw him out if he starts shouting."

His joke successfully made Qrow chuckle a bit. "Am I gonna get you fired?" he retorted.

Clover hummed. "It won't be that bad."

A deep sigh left Qrow's form. He closed his eyes again, and Clover almost thought he'd fallen back asleep, but then he spoke once more. "She's nicer than I thought."

"Who?"

"Robyn."

Clover paused. He didn't really have any feelings on Robyn Hill one way or the other- he could respect her intentions, but didn't always agree with her methods- but that note made him curious. "Robyn Hill?"

Qrow smiled. "Any other people with one-letter-off bird names around?"

"Other than you, no."

"See? That's why we get along."

Clover rolled his eyes. Gently pulling the man closer to him, careful not to touch any of his injuries, he leaned down and brushed the hair from his eyes. It was getting longer and scragglier. "Qrow? You still with me?"

Qrow's eyes flew open. They were still hazy, but he was awake. "Do you remember who attacked you?" Clover asked, his (in)famous restraint making it easy to keep the anger out of his voice. "What they looked like?

"Ask...Robyn." Then Qrow's eyes slid shut, and he was clearly drifting off to sleep again. "She knows."

Clover let out a sigh when his partner was fully asleep. His wounds hadn't been extremely serious, according to the chart the nurse had showed him, it was mostly the mild poison that had been put into his system he'd have to sleep off, along with a concussion. Even if it wasn't life-threatening, however, it did mean bed rest for at least a week, whether his Aura healed him or not. It was standard procedure for any head injuries.

He unclipped his jacket and softly laid it over the other man's upper body. He'd known it would probably still be too cold for him before he left base, no matter where he was; that hospital gown and the clinic's blankets definitely weren't going to cut it.

"Have some good dreams," he whispered, leaning down and giving Qrow a kiss on the forehead that left a gold glimmer behind. In his sleep, the man curled his hands in the fabric of Clover's jacket and pulled it closer, and it brought a smile to his face. He decided that mercenary group could wait, and got comfortable in the chair he'd sat in, settling in to wait until either Qrow woke up or his nieces exploded into the room. He was putting his bet on the latter, honestly.


	4. family

It was less than an hour before a cloud of red slammed into the hallway just outside the door and Ruby stumbled out of it into the hospital room. A rather clumsy misuse of her Semblance, but Clover couldn't blame her, especially when her eyes lit up. "Uncle Qrow!"

Qrow's eyes flew open, surprising Clover with just how fast they did- he was sure the man had been fast asleep. He turned and smiled when he saw Ruby rushing towards him. Yang came jogging into the doorway, panting, just a little behind her sister. "Hey, kiddo. C'mere."

"Thank god," Yang wheezed as she followed her sister, and Ruby edged in so close to his hospital bed she was close to just climbing on it with him.

Qrow raised an arm. They both ducked in so he could give them a hug, and he pretended not to notice the clear sniffling coming from Ruby. "It's all right. I'm not dead, you gotta have a little more faith in me, ducklings."

Clover raised an eyebrow. That seemed like it was an older nickname. Eyes shining, Ruby raised her head and wrapped her arms around his, since it was the part that looked the least bandaged. "I'm just glad you're all right," she said, voice wavering. "You scared me."

Qrow's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, little petal," he murmured, and for some reason, that made a few tears escape the girl. "I'm fine. I promise."

Ruby wiped her face with her sleeve. Yang straightened herself up with a frown, and one of her hands had strayed to rest on Ruby's back. She was the older one; the one who had to stop crying first. Clover felt a pant of sympathy at the hardness she forced into her eyes, even though he didn't doubt she was genuinely pissed off. "Who did this to you? We'll beat the crap out of em!"

She held up her fist as if it needed demonstrating. Chuckling, Qrow reached over with his free hand and ruffled Ruby's hair. "I know you could, firecracker, but I don't want you worrying about it."

"But-"

"We'll find whoever did this, Yang," Clover interrupted, in as assuring a voice as he could, making Yang turn her frown on him. "I promise."

Slowly, the frown lost its edge. "Yeah, okay," she muttered, looking mildly sheepish. "But if I get the opportunity, I'm punching someone."

Clover let out a chuckle. "Deal."

Qrow eyed Yang and let out a smile. "Where's the other rugrats?" he asked, brushing Ruby's hair back to get a better look at her eyes. She summoned a weaker smile than usual.

"Everyone's out in the waiting room. I thought there'd be too many of us, but this place is huge," she said, with some naivety. Clover knew exactly why the place was large enough for the waiting area not to be cramped; he'd heard the rumors. "They made us get sprayed with this cleaning stuff when we came in, so it took us a little longer."

"Dumb sanitizing spray," Yang muttered, mostly to herself. "Gonna be in my hair for frickin' days."

"It helps if you let the shampoo sit for about ten minutes," Clover told her, amused. "Believe me, I've been in my share of Atlas hospitals." She looked up at him, looking a little surprised, and let out a crooked grin.

"The lady out front said only family right now, but General Ironwood wants to talk to you, so I thought everyone else could come in after that, is that okay?" Ruby went on, barely noticing her sister's hair plight, with round eyes. Qrow let out a laugh.

"It's fine, petal. I won't try to escape out the window or something."

"And if he did, I'd be here to reel him back in!" Clover interjected cheerfully. Both girls looked at him and then back at Qrow and laughed, and it brought a smile to his face. Seeing them cry had been a little bit...worse than he would have figured. It occurred to him that he hadn't really gotten to know Qrow's nieces as well as Qrow himself, and he thought he should rectify that as soon as he could. "Why don't you two go tell him he can come in? Sooner we get the boring talk over with the better."

Ruby nodded at him and turned around, trotting out of the room at a slower pace than before. She was so much stronger than she looked; Clover could tell she was still antsy, but she'd bounced back extraordinarily well after finding her uncle safe.

Yang followed her, glancing back at him and giving him what looked like a grateful look, and they let the door drift shut.

"They're excitable, aren't they?"

"That's one word for it."

* * *

Honestly, Ironwood didn't like these luxurious hospitals better than most people, but he was at least grateful that the front area was large enough everyone could fit. Nine children, the entire Ace Ops team, himself and the Happy Huntresses wouldn't have fit into a smaller hospital. As it was, Robyn and her group was sitting on the far wall, while everyone else sat across the aisle, tension on the air.

He was looking over the sheet on Qrow's injuries, guilt broiling in his stomach, when the man's nieces came back down the hall. "General Ironwood," Ruby called, traces of fresh tear tracks on her face, "you can go in now."

He nodded at her in thanks and turned down the hall, leaving the sheet on the counter.

Qrow looked a little better than he had on their video call, at least. James still felt like a piece of shit when he stepped inside. Especially when his own highest-ranking operative looked up with the barest hint of wariness in his eyes.

"Qrow," he said, keeping it polite. "I apologize for earlier. It was...a lot to hear about."

Qrow tilted his head back into the pillows with a snort and a crooked smirk. "Yeah, that's one way to describe it. Technically, though, _your_ drone started it."

James let out a sigh and went for a seat a respectable distance from the bed. "And I apologize for that too. Honestly, I shouldn't have sent you out alone in the first place."

"Hey, I can still-"

"I agree with that sentiment," Clover interrupted, taking Qrow's hand again and not releasing it. The man turned to him with a weak glare, and he replied with a firm smile. "None of us should be in the field alone at this point. You can't blame me for worrying, Qrow."

Qrow let out a vague mutter that probably had something mildly self-depreciating somewhere in it. Clover squeezed his hand, stroking his wrist with the other and trying to convey what he felt through his touch. He knew it probably ruffled his partner's feathers, but it was for the best.

"Now," James started again, already inwardly wincing at this conversation, "what's this Ms. Hill said about your attackers having it out for me?"

Qrow let out a cringe. "That's not important," he tried, which gained him a sharp look from his new husband.

"I disagree. It was a group of mercenaries that are... _unsatisfied_ by the state of Mantle and chose to take it out on someone who worked for you, sir."

"Snitch," Qrow mumbled, without any real heat behind it.

A new voice spoke from the door. "In _your_ words, they wanted to fuck up one of Ironwood's toys and make an example out of you. Isn't that right?"

James' head snapped around. Robyn stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, probably having breezed past the nurses without caring.

"Double snitch," Qrow accused, cantankerous.

Rolling her eyes, Robyn unfolded her arms and strolled inside, giving Ironwood an appraising glance. He felt a little like a bit of bacteria under a microscope. He was mildly surprised when the woman stopped at Qrow's bedside, then put a hand on his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow. "You were being pretty honest before. Don't you think you should be now?"

Qrow grimaced. "Ugh," he said, making her smirk, and let his head flop back. "Fine. Yeah, that's what I said. It seems you piss off a lot of people, Jimmy."

James' hand curled into a fist. _They wanted to fuck up one of Ironwood's toys and make an example out of you._ Was that what people thought his operatives were, toys that could be discarded without thought? Did his own people think that?

"But," Qrow continued, grunting as he sat up with mild effort and looking at him with narrowed eyes, "don't think for a fucking second you're gonna fix this with more robots wandering around down there or more trade sanctions or whatever other bullshit you might come up with. It was three people, not the whole of Mantle."

That surprised him. "What-?"

"I'm saying it's time to stop being a total _dumbass_ , Jim, and realize you have got to start working with everyone around you, or you're going to lose them all."

The room sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute. Clover averted his eyes to stare at his partner's hand, pale in his grasp, and maybe it was that little gesture that just made the point more apparent.

"I-" James sighed, running a hand over his face. "I know that. I know. But I can't just-"

"We know, you can't just stop construction on the tower," Robyn interrupted with a roll of her eyes. "And I know that, too." Startled, James looked up at her. "You remember that Qrow told me everything, don't you? That means I know the stakes. I know getting that tower up is important. But what _you_ need to remember is-" She paused to walk a few steps closer to him, eyes hard as they stared into his. "The rest of us are important too. So you can dig your heels in and keep doing what isn't working over and over, which is the textbook definition of insanity, by the way, or, we can work together, and compromise. Which is it going to be?"

She held out her hand. James didn't know if she meant to use her Semblance, or just shake his own.

He glanced over at Qrow. All the bruises on his skin were from people who apparently hated him enough to try and attempt murder. Had James been that oblivious this long?

"I don't want to lose anymore people," he said, reaching out and taking her hand. The obvious relief on Qrow's face that the man quickly hid made him feel worse.

"Great," Robyn replied with a whiplash-inducing sudden cheer. "Then our first venture together is exposing this cheap ass hospital full of drug smugglers!"

"I- excuse me?"

Qrow sighed. "Long story."

* * *

"Why." Qrow's eyebrow twitched. "Are you all." The other one started twitching too. "In here." He raised his hand, voice raising a few pitches. " _At once!?_ "

"Well, we couldn't figure out who got to come in first, so we decided to come in all at once," Jaune said, sounding extremely sheepish from the corner he was tucked in with a mildly relieved-looking Oscar.

"WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAAAAD," Nora wailed, popping up from seemingly under the bed to trap him in a suffocating hug and wail. "I'm so glad you're not dead!"

"Let him breathe, Nora," Ren said, pulling her away while she flailed uselessly.

"You're never allowed to do that _ever_ again," Weiss told him from where she was perched on one of the chairs as elegantly as could be. "If you do, I will punish you myself by making you recite the entirety of Lord Byon Sente's poetry to me. It's _seven hundred_ pages long."

Well that sounded like pure hell. Qrow scowled when he caught Harriet and Elm snickering near the door. Elm had crouched down to be less obstructive, so now she was like a boulder instead of a gigantic tree.

Ruby and Blake were perched on the end of the bed, while Penny literally hung out the window, hovering outside while peeking her head in since there wasn't really much more room available. "Salutations, Uncle Qrow!" she called out happily, beaming. "I am so happy to see you are okay!"

"You're Team Dad," Nora wailed pitifully from where she'd flopped onto the floor. "You CAN'T die, even when WE'RE old enough to die."

"I don't think it's possible to live that long," Ren said with a wince.

She shot up with a terrifying gleam in her eyes. "Then we'll MAKE it possible!"

Marrow let out a mutter from...somewhere on the floor in the room. "Someone make a note not to allow them in the labs."

"All right," Clover finally interrupted with a roll of his eyes, "I think we can all see Qrow's had enough visitors for now."

"No, Cloves, it's too late," Qrow said in a dead flat tone of voice, laying a hand to his forehead. "It's too loud. I think I see a light."

"Don't go into the light!" Ruby screeched, on the basis that he'd made this joke a million times when she was a kid and her reaction was always the same, and Clover chuckled.

Clover took the hand on his forehead again and folded it in between his. "That must be terrible," he teased. "A mild headache to go along with your other injuries."

Qrow peeked one eye open to glare at him. The other man sat there smiling, stroking his hand, the very picture of someone who knew he was a little shit and could get away with it.

Someone groaned. Qrow glanced up and found most everyone else sitting there with a variety of bland and blank expressions, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Ruby suddenly exploded with a forcefully cheerful smile, jumping off the bed and somehow bouncing in place. "All right, everyone! Let's go and give Uncle Qrow some time alone!" That was almost code for something, because every one of his kids started getting up like he'd just told them to scram because he was getting a live surgery in the room. He caught Harriet rolling her eyes, and then everyone but Clover was filing out, giving him small smiles or nods as they left. Marrow was the last one out, and he gave Clover a pointed look and pointed at him before yanking the door shut behind him.

"...I miss something?" Qrow asked, lost.

"Just as lost as me," Clover replied, still sounding cheerful. "So, what do you think of Ms. Hill's plan?"

"Please just call her Robyn, that's going to wig me out. And as long as I play the part, I think it'll work just fine."

Clover grinned down at him. "Play the part, huh? Well, you need to be a little more convincing, then."

Qrow flopped back into bed dramatically, letting out an exaggerated groan. "Oh, nurse," he panted, "it hurts all over. Only your soothing touch can make the pain go away."

Clover let out a laugh, snorting as he did, loud enough that it shook his shoulders and made those rarely-seen dimples in his face appear. Qrow grinned to himself.

"Well, what this nurse prescribes right now is more sleep."

"You sure you don't want to go back to base with everyone?"

Clover's thumb hovered over his pulse point. "I'll be right here," he promised, giving him a relaxed smile. "It isn't something to sluff off, getting put in the hospital, you know?"

Qrow snorted and closed his eyes. He let Clover's hands stroking his lull him to sleep, and he enjoyed it more than he expected he would; it reminded him of simpler days, when he fell asleep in the courtyard grass to Summer stroking his hair.

* * *

Sleeping all day did have the unfortunate side effect of being wide awake when night came. Qrow had watched the television on the wall for a while, flipping through news, while Clover dozed in his chair, and he finally rolled his eyes and nudged the operative awake with the remote.

Clover came to and shook his head a bit, making Qrow snicker. He looked down at him with a fond expression. "Something funny, feathers?"

"Just you almost falling out of the chair three times now. Just lay down, would you?"

Clover's eyes flitted to the hospital bed. It was quite large, obviously part of the "luxury" experience. "If you don't I won't go to sleep all night," Qrow threatened, making the man roll his eyes again.

"All right," he gave in with a sigh, standing up and taking off the pointier parts of his gear and stripping down to his undershirt. Qrow moved over a bit, giving him room, and had to laugh at how easy it had been to lure him in.

He subtly reached over to the night stand and set the remote down, leaving the station on. Clover turned his head to look at him and quirked an eyebrow. "Why, Mr. Branwen, I thought you meant to go to sleep?"

"Didn't promise," Qrow retorted, turning on his elbow and draping himself across the other man like an extra blanket. Clover let out a slow breath. "Aren't you a little hesitant for a man about to get lucky on his wedding night?"

Despite the urge to chastise, a grin grew on Clover's face. "You're injured, Qrow."

"My Aura took care of most of the physical injuries already," Qrow countered, leaning down and mouthing at his neck. It sent a slight shiver through the other's body, and his hands slowly drifted up to rest on Qrow's ass.

"You're still weak from the poison."

"Yeah, I am," Qrow replied, pausing to turn and whisper into his ear. "Guess that means you'll have to be _gentle_ with me."

"Wouldn't want to bruise the patient more," Clover whispered back, control completely shot now that Qrow had found the right angle to grind against his dick, and let out a low moan.

He roused himself and rolled them over, leaning on his elbows so his weight didn't come down on Qrow, whose hands drifted to his waist to tug at the hem of his shirt. "Guess we can add hospital room to our list of inconvenient places to have sex," he groaned.

A chuckle escaped the man beneath him. "You think I didn't think of that, lucky charm? There's condoms and lube in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. Every room has its own private shower. This _is_ the luxury hotel masquerading as a hospital, remember?"

"Well then, happy honeymoon, dear," Clover muttered out, knowing the quip would make Qrow open his mouth to laugh, and took the opportunity to claim his mouth again and snake his tongue inside. At least sex came with the added benefit of tiring them both out enough to actually sleep through the night when they were done.


End file.
